A Cup of Cocoa
by Hogwarts Duo
Summary: On the eve of Mary's wedding, both Carson and Mary seek a bit of quiet time with each other, as any father and daughter might do. *With a hint of Carson/Hughes pairing.


**A Cup of Cocoa**

**Summary: **On the eve of Mary's wedding, both Carson and Mary seek a bit of quiet time with each other, as any father and daughter might do.

"Mr. Carson, you really should turn off the lights and head upstairs to bed. You've gone over everything a dozen times or more, and if you haven't discovered a flaw in the plans by now, odds are you won't." Elsie stood in Charles's pantry doorway, mildly scolding him, though only because she cared so much.

Charles looked up and rubbed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, then stretched deeply. "I just cannot shake the feeling that I'm overlooking something, Mrs. Hughes. I've gone over all my notes, every list I've made since Christmas, every scrap of paper, and still I cannot fathom what it is I have forgotten."

Elsie stepped into the room and came to stand by his side, placing her hand lightly on his tense shoulder. "Would you like me to stay up with you and have a gander at your lists and pages? Two sets of eyes might be better than one," she offered.

He looked up at her and smiled softly, very appreciative of her offer and her willingness to sacrifice her own sleep in order to help him. "No, Mrs. Hughes, but I thank you all the same." He reached up and patted her hand which was still resting comfortably on his shoulder. "I think I'll just lock up and do as you suggest. Tomorrow is sure to be a long and very exciting day and I need to be at my best."

She smiled and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Mr. Carson, I'm sure that you could go without sleep for a week and still be at your best tomorrow. You would let nothing and no one spoil tomorrow. Of that, I'm certain. Still, I think you'd be better off taking my advice and at least trying to get some sleep. Even if you don't sleep, your body could use a little rest and relaxation."

He stood and towered over her for a moment, looking deep into her eyes as if he desperately wanted to say something, to do something. But then, the moment passed as quickly as it had started. "Off to bed with you, Mrs. Hughes. We have our work cut out for us tomorrow, and you've been working much too hard of late. I've noticed you've been a bit tired in the evenings. You should take better care of yourself, or I'll be forced to see that you do," he teased gently before ushering her out of his pantry. He switched off the lights and then escorted her to the foot of the stairs. "I promise I'm only going to lock up and check that everything is in order for the early breakfast in the morning, and then I'm putting myself to bed."

"See that you do, and do not go back into your pantry. Tomorrow will be perfect. Whatever it is you think you've forgotten surely is something minute and if you happen to think of it, we'll handle that crisis or task together." With that, she gave him a parting smile then ascended the stairs to her awaiting bed, leaving him at the bottom of the staircase watching her until she was out of sight.

Charles waited until he heard her starting up the second flight of stairs before turning and checking the back door, the kitchens, switching off lights and starting towards the stairs. He still couldn't shake the idea that he'd forgotten something, and his first instinct had been to go back into his pantry, but he'd promised Elsie he wouldn't. She would be livid with him if she discovered he'd not heeded her advice.

Thinking he might rest better if he had a cup of tea, Charles lingered in the kitchen, waiting on the kettle to boil, all the while pondering his numerous lists and preparations for tomorrow. He was startled from his musings by the sound of soft footsteps approaching the kitchen.

"I promise I am on my way to bed, Mrs. Hughes. I was only making myself a cup of tea to soothe my nerves," he said with a soft chuckle before turning around to find himself face to face with Lady Mary Crawley.

"I'm sorry, Carson. I won't keep you. I thought …"

"No, no, milady. You're not keeping me. Is there something I can do for you, something you need?" He looked at her with kind eyes, surveying her from head to toe. Lady Mary was in her dressing gown and slippers, her hair spilling down her back in soft waves. She should be tucked safely in her bed, dreaming happily of her wedding day, especially at this time of night. "Surely you came downstairs for some reason," he gently probed.

She stepped fully into the kitchen and leaned against the large wooden table. "You've always been able to see right through me, Carson. I don't know how, but you always seem to know."

"A benefit of being a good servant, milady. We are always there before you know you need us and we have what you require before you require it," he said with some small measure of pride.

She shook her head. "No, it's more than that, Carson. Even when I was little, you always knew exactly what to say, how to make all my troubles disappear."

Charles felt his cheeks warm a little at the sincere compliment. "I believe I told you once, years ago, that even a butler has his favorites. I'll always be here for you. You will always have my support."

"Does that support include a cup of cocoa tonight? You used to make the best chocolate, but I haven't had a cup since I was forced from the nursery. Apparently Mama and Granny thought cocoa wasn't a beverage suitable for afternoon tea."

"And they would be right, I'm afraid. Think how it would look to other families if the daughter of the Earl of Grantham, Lady Mary Crawley, preferred a butler's cocoa to a nice cup of tea," he teased, trying to keep the mirth from his voice.

"But sometimes, a cup of cocoa is just what's needed for frayed nerves, wouldn't you agree?"

He suddenly realized that she was asking for his company, in her own sweet way. "I would agree, wholeheartedly. Would you mind, just this once, if I joined you for a cup of warm chocolate? Then, it will be off to bed for both of us or we'll not be at our best, according to Mrs. Hughes," he replied, already gathering the ingredients he needed to make the desired pot of cocoa.

"I would very much like it if you'd join me. In fact, that's the reason I'm here, actually. I couldn't sleep and, knowing your attention to details, I had a sneaking suspicion that you'd still be awake, too. I waited until I thought Mrs. Hughes had gone upstairs before venturing downstairs."

"And why would you do that, milady? Mrs. Hughes wouldn't have said a word about you being downstairs this late at night. And, if you'd asked, she would have left us to our cocoa," he said, focusing his attention on the milk and chocolate he was mixing together.

Mary smiled. "Yes, she's very nice to me, even though I know I'm not her favorite. That has always been Sybil," she said with a grin. "But she has always been pleasant enough, but, Carson, she is not you. You've been there for me from the beginning and even though we've had a rough patch here or there, I've always known you had my best interests at heart."

He sensed she was alluding to the fact that he had accepted her offer to join her at Haxby but then refused. "I have always tried, in my own way, to say and do what I felt was best. It hasn't always been easy," he admitted, thinking back to the times she'd said things, either to his face or behind his back that had wounded his heart. How many times had he been forced to withhold information from Mrs. Hughes so the dear housekeeper wouldn't go on a tirade against his beloved Mary?

She watched as he poured them each a steaming mug of cocoa then took a seat across the table from her. "And you were always right, even though I was too stubborn or childish to recognize that at the time." She took a sip of the hot chocolate and let the warmth of it soothe her body, mind, and soul."

"Milady, if I may be so bold … is there something troubling you this evening? You seem to be in a very peculiar mood, especially for a bride on the brink of her wedding day." He surveyed her over the rim of his mug as he blew on the hot chocolate then took a drink.

"I seem to be making a mess of this, I'm afraid. I had only wanted to spend a few minutes alone with you, before the big day tomorrow. In … in some ways, many ways actually, you've been like a father to me. Papa is wonderful but he can be somewhat … aloof, shall we say? But I've never experienced that with you. Whenever I've needed a shoulder to cry upon or someone in my corner, it's always been you. So, when I couldn't sleep, the only thing I could think of was having a nice cup of cocoa with you and you'd make it all better somehow, like you always do."

Charles felt tears welling in his eyes. He had always thought of Lady Mary as his special little girl. She had been his favorite of the sisters, and he felt he'd been privileged to gain her trust, to be supportive, to offer advice, to simply be there for her. And here, on the eve of her wedding, she had sought him out one last time for some reason or another. "I am very pleased you thought to come looking for me. I wondered if I'd have a chance to speak to you privately before your wedding. I wanted to offer you my congratulations and to remind you that, even though you're grown and marrying the man of your dreams, I will always be here for YOU. Mr. Crawley is very nice and I've grown quite fond of him, but you will always hold a special place in my heart." He reached over and covered her small hand with his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Oh, Carson, you are going to make me cry," she teased, quickly wiping away a tear of happiness from her eye. She covered his large hand with her much smaller one and leaned across the table to give him a kiss, then giggled. "Remember when I was almost five and decided to run away from home? I gave you a kiss for a sixpence," she said fondly, recalling the memory as if it had only happened yesterday.

"I do, indeed. It's one of my fondest memories of your childhood. You were so intent on running away, and I was so afraid you would," he chuckled. "Fortunately, for both of us, you didn't and you grew quite fond of your baby sister," he teased. "And, if I may be so bold, I saw the little stuffed dog on Mr. Crawley's nightstand one evening. I would say that sixpence went a long way towards insuring your future happiness, so it was money well spent."

"It may sound cold of me, but I asked Matthew to return Carson to me before he married Lavinia. I didn't think it would be fair, to either of us, for them to start their marriage with my good luck charm. Besides, I had always hoped to be able to share my little stuffed dog with a child of my own one day. Perhaps, Carson, we could tell him or her the story together, over some milk and cake."

"I'd like that very much, milady, and to be fair, I'm grateful that you held on to the little dog. The day you burst into my office and jumped into my lap with no warning at all, waving your purchase around as if it was a crown from the Queen, herself, has always been one of my happiest memories. To see you so thrilled with something so simple, something I might have purchased for you in some small way, brought such joy to my heart. It still does, to be honest."

Mary took a long drink of her now cooling chocolate. "Think Mrs. Patmore has any cake or sweets in the cupboard? We could have milk and cake like old times," she added with a twinkle in her eyes. "I'd suggest we sample the treats for tomorrow, but I'm sure she'd murder us both if she found out we were behind the missing pastries."

"If she didn't, Mrs. Hughes would. She would be forced to listen to Mrs. Patmore's endless tirade and interrogations of the staff. Best not to touch those sweeties. However, we did have a rather tasty vanilla cake for pudding last evening. I think there might be a slice or two put away for a certain butler who asked very nicely for extra helpings."

"Think that lovely, kind, compassionate butler would be inclined to share that slice of his precious cake with his surrogate daughter?" The words had slipped past her lips before she had a moment to second guess them, though there was a pure truth behind them. She had always felt close to Carson, as if she'd been terribly lucky to have him as an additional parent. He was the one she turned to with bruised knees, bruised feelings, a bruised heart, and time after time he would wrap her in his arms and hold her, letting her cry and pour out her pain. He never judged her, never scolded her, never said or did anything that wasn't loving and caring. She knew she could always turn to him before anyone else, and she never wanted to disappoint this man sitting across the table from her.

Charles was so very touched by her comment. In his heart and head, many times he had silently referred to her as his daughter. But to hear that she felt the same way made his heart burst with pride. His feelings, all those years of caring for and looking out for her weren't wasted. His devotion to her, even in the heated discussions with Mrs. Hughes about this young woman, was worth it. To know that she looked at him as a surrogate father touched him deeply. "I think your surrogate father could be persuaded to share his last slice of cake on the last night of her freedom." He rose quickly from the table and made his way to the cupboard, wiping the tears from his eyes as discreetly as possible.

As Charles was getting the cake, Mary toyed with the handle of the modest cup she held in her hands. "Matthew came to see me this evening," she said, rather casually.

Carson whirled around, nearly spilling the cake from the plate but recovering at the last minute. "What do you mean, Mr. Crawley was here? He's not supposed to see the bride before the wedding. It's bad luck."

"Goodness, Carson, you sound just like Granny," she said with a giggle.

"And your Granny … er … Her Ladyship … would be correct. It's tradition for the groom and the bride's families to stay at their respective homes. What on earth was he doing here, if you don't mind me asking?"

She stared down into her cup, wondering just how much she should tell this man she loved as if he were her own father. "Branson brought him here to see me," she said, her eyebrow arching high as Carson began to bluster about, just barely containing the annoyance in his mannerisms and voice. "Now, now, he didn't mean anything. He was actually doing it for our own good. I had nearly called off the wedding."

At that, Charles Carson nearly choked on his cocoa and cake. "Why would you call off the wedding? Has he said or done something to you? You do know you can confide in me, tell me anything, and I will keep your secrets safe till the grave."

"We had a row about something very important to me," she answered, not ready to inform Carson of her father's misfortunes. "I saw the situation in one way and he saw it in a completely different way. I didn't see any way around it, but Tom went to see Matthew. In the end, they showed up at my bedroom door and …"

"Your bedroom door? You were chaperoned, were you not?" he said, sounding every bit the concerned father.

She laughed and reached out to take his hand in hers. "Anna was there and Tom. We had a nice little chat and, while we still do not see eye to eye on the matter, we've decided that it's not worth wasting another day, another chance at being together. And before you panic, he did not see me nor did I open my eyes and look at him."

This time, it was Carson's turn to laugh. "Excuse me for asking, but if you didn't open your eyes, how do you know he did not open his?"

"Because I trust him and he promised," she answered openly and honestly.

Carson nodded, happy to hear the correct answer from Mary. Now all the pieces of the puzzle were falling into place. She was uneasy about the row she'd had with her beloved. They had made a sort of peace pact, but she was still uncertain of the future. She was getting married tomorrow, and by all accounts, her nerves were a little shaken. "You trust him and you love him. That should be enough to see you through anything. He seems to be an honorable and kind man with a level head on his shoulders. Besides, if you can't find a happy middle ground, I'm sure you can persuade him around to your side of things," he said with a sly wink. "You have always had a way of charming both admirers and foes into eating out of the palm of your hand."

"Everyone but Mrs. Hughes," she countered without batting an eyelash. "She doesn't care much for me, though to be fair, we haven't had a great deal of interactions. She speaks mostly to Mama and Sybil, occasionally Cousin Isobel."

"Mrs. Hughes is a kind woman, milady. She has an incredibly strong work ethic and is a surrogate mother to more than a few of the downstairs staff. They look to her for guidance, advice, support. She has a lot of responsibilities …"

"Goodness, Carson, you'd think we were going to interview her for the position tomorrow. You don't have to sell her attributes to me. I was merely making a comment that not everyone falls prey to my charms," she said with a grin. "But I do think she is more than a little protective of you. She fears I will hurt you, in some way, and I suppose she's been correct on more than one occasion."

Carson picked up their empty mugs and placed them in the sink, running a bit of water into them so they'd be easier to wash in the morning. With his back turned to her, he asked a question that had been on his mind. "Why haven't you ever said something to her about all of this? I have no doubts that if you approached her calmly and honestly, she would give you a true answer. You two might find you have something in common, perhaps several things."

"We have you in common, Carson, and that is the main thing. She worries I'll hurt you and we both worry that you're working too hard. She thinks I demand more of your time than you have time to give, but she doesn't see the moments like this when we've let down our guards. I do hope that she won't scold me in the morning for keeping you up so late."

"Might be better if we don't tell her, then. I don't think you'd enjoy being on the receiving end of one of her scoldings. I've seen them and they can be quite terrifying," he laughed. "But you're correct. We should both try to get a good sleep tonight. You have a big day ahead of you and you need to be at your very best."

They worked together to return the kitchen to its normal pristine state before Carson switched off the light. "Do you have a moment to stop by my pantry for a moment before you toddle back to your warm bed?"

Mary quirked an eyebrow and gave him a questioning look. "For you, Carson, of course."

He led her to his pantry and quickly rounded his desk, opening the top drawer and removing something small and shiny. "You most likely already have one for tomorrow, but, well, it never hurts to have a second, I suppose." He took her hand in his and turned it so her palm was facing up. Gently, he pressed a sixpence into her hand, then closed her fingers over the shiny coin. "Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue, and a sixpence for your shoe," he said softly.

Mary's eyes welled with tears as she leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, much as she had done all those years ago. "You really were telling the truth. You do know what I need, even before I know it myself. I hadn't thought of a sixpence, but I promise you, I will put it in my left shoe as soon as I get back to my room. No matter where life takes me, Carson, I will always take a part of you with me, in my heart, and this sixpence will always be a reminder of your love for me and my love for you. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for everything." She kissed him quickly, once more, then made her way quickly up the stairs, wiping tears from her eyes but feeling happier than she had when she descended the stairs earlier.

Charles sat at his desk, drying his eyes with his handkerchief when he heard soft footsteps once more. "Surely you haven't forgotten something, milady?" he called out without looking up.

"I did, apparently," Elsie replied. "I forgot that the butler of Downton Abbey doesn't follow directions as well as his housekeeper would like. So, I thought I'd just take a quick walk downstairs for some fresh water and to make sure you weren't still worrying over whatever it is you've forgotten."

He smiled and stood, discreetly tucking the handkerchief back into his pocket. "I assure you I wasn't working. I simply stopped in to pick up something for Lady Mary. She just returned to her room. I'm surprised you didn't pass her on the stairs," he said, his brow furrowing at the thought.

"Yes, well I didn't." Her answer was short enough for Charles to realize there was more to the story than she was telling.

"How much did you hear?"

Elsie looked down at her hands which were clasped together in front of her. "I only heard bits and pieces, enough for me to realize she meant no harm, wasn't asking anything of you other than a bit of your undivided attention, and a cup of cocoa."

"She needed a friendly shoulder, someone to listen. She has always come to me with her problems and, to be fair, I think this was a bit of closure for both of us. Starting tomorrow, she will have someone new in her life. He will be the person she turns to with her worries and doubts, her problems and triumphs. It was her way of saying thank you."

Elsie took a few steps into the room and looped her arm through his, guiding him in the direction of the staircase. "And how do you feel after the little conversation?"

He looked into Elsie's eyes and smiled. "Like a proud father, happy that his little girl has found her happiness. Whether she realized it or not, I needed this time with her as much as she needed it with me. I believe I can rest much easier now."

"And do you still feel like you've forgotten something or has that been put to rest as well?" She leaned in a little closer to him as they ascended the stairs, hoping he wouldn't mind. She was feeling so very tired but she still refused to tell him why.

"Everything is as it should be, Mrs. Hughes. My little girl has grown up and is leaving her nest tomorrow, in a manner of speaking. She won't need me in the same way from this point forward, but that isn't necessarily a bad thing. It means I will have to find someone else who might enjoy sharing a late night cup of cocoa and a slice of cake with me. You wouldn't happen to know of anyone, would you?"

She bumped his hip with hers and grinned. "I just might, Mr. Carson. You'll have to ask me one evening and find out for certain." She laughed softly, then added, "how do you feel about whipping crème?"

Days later, Charles was finally bold enough to invite Mrs. Hughes for a cup of cocoa and to question her more about this whipping crème idea. From the sounds of it, he was going to enjoy these little late night adventures with her, more than he ever thought possible.

**The End.**

**A/N:** Thanks for taking this little journey with me. I hope you've enjoyed it and will be kind enough to leave a review. If you want to learn more about Carson-the stuffed dog, the sixpence, and kiss in full payment, look up my story here on entitled Sixpence for your thoughts.


End file.
